


It all keep crumbling - feysand (modern AU)

by brokemywings (queenofseventeen)



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Abusive Relationship, Eventual Smut, F/M, Finished, ITS DONE, Slow Burn, cop!rhysand, feyre got kidnapped, mafia!tamlin, not gonna write it anymore, sorry - Freeform, tamlin was almost too late to save her, this is no longer ongoing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-18
Updated: 2017-09-24
Packaged: 2018-12-31 06:52:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12126921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenofseventeen/pseuds/brokemywings
Summary: Tamlin is a mafia boss who saved Feyre from a life at the streets. Feyre has broken and it all keep falling apart. Rhysand lost someone close to him, he doesn't wants to loose anyone else.





	1. Date night

After all the time of not talking Feyre had hoped Tamlin would show up. He promised. Then again he had promised to come to her house a couple of times a week. He hadn’t done that either. He had broken so many promises over the last few weeks and made so many new ones. He wasn’t willing to let her go out even if it was with him and he wasn’t there.

She did not remember how long ago she had walked into the restaurant, she did remember the drop of her heart when he hadn’t been there already. Tamlin must be busy with his job. He was the big lord. Maybe one of his meetings had taken longer than expected, That was possible right?

She sighed and leaned her head on her hand. This was the first time Tamlin was making time to go out with her since the accident. He was so set on making everything safe for her that he hadn’t realised how choked she was beginning to feel. The appartment he had bought for her had to many locks on the windows and doors. She felt locked in a space that should be safe. Nowhere was safe, not as long as she was with Tamlin but with all the protection her mob lord had put in place she was surprised that he didn’t show up in the restaurant. Although it must be safe, she noticed one of his minions sitting a couple of tables away although he was eating. Why wasn’t Lucien just coming to sit with her, or was that another one of Tamlins rules, don’t engage with Feyre when he isn’t there. Her life was flowing away from her like a river.

Ever since that kidnapping three months ago she hadn’t felt safe even though Tamlin did everything in his power to keep her safe. He gave her another minion every day to keep her safe but never company. She was lonely in that appartment. Pretty to see but not a home, not to her. Letting Feyre pick the restaurant was the first sign that he trusted her. It would have been if he didn’t also order her to pick a restaurant he owned. He owned a lot of them. This was all for her own safety, she had to remind herself. But it could also be considered safety to tell her who actually got her out of that building. She knew that Tamlin knew who got her out. She knew Tamlin wasn’t it. He couldn’t show up with all that police, he couldn’t risk being caught. She didn’t want him to be caught. She just wanted to see that he cared about her. Words weren’t enough anymore. Words had got her into that restaurant, alone. When did they last have a real conversation?

The waitress looked over what seemed to be the hundreds time tonight. A sad look in her eyes. A couple more minutes, Feyre promised herself. Only a couple more minutes than I’ll get the check and leave. She grabbed her phone. He was fortyfive minutes late. She sighed again and downed her glass of wine. That was it. She was leaving and she’d talk to Tamlin tomorrow no matter what. If he wouldn’t answer the phone she’d go and search for him. She knew where his office was.

The door opened and closed, the soft bell chiming. A handsome man had walked in. The most handsome man she had ever seen. His violet eyes looked around the room until they found hers. That’s not Tamlin what does he want? A lazy smile creeped up the guys face before he loudly exclaimed: “Hello, Darling. Sorry I’m late. Traffic is crazy right now.” He sat down in the chair in front of her. Quitly he added “I’m Rhysand. Just go with it, okay? Whoever didn’t bother to show up is a tool? Who would waste such a beautiful girl and such a beautiful dress.” A small smile krept her way onto Feyre’s face. She looked around and crossed eyes with Lucien. He shook his head and grabbed his own phone. Later hers buzzed. The message on screen read a simple message: Tamlin hates this man. Send him away before we get a brawl and or Tamling fires/kills me. Feyre scoffed and didn’t bother answering it before she put it in her purse. She wasn’t going to waste a beautiful dress, like the man before her, Rhysand, had said. This dress was expensive and if that man wanted to have dinner with her she would. The violet eyes where familiar but not familiar enough. She would remember if she saw a man like Rhysand on the street, not?

“I’m Feyre,” she quietly said. “I hope you like white wine, I ordered a bottle at the beginning of the evening.” Rhysand nodded and waved the waitress over.

“How long ago did your evening begin, Feyre?” She blushed as the waitress reached the table. She took a long time looking Rhysand over, not even looking at Feyre, but Rhysand wasn’t looking at the waitress, he was focused on the young woman in front of him. “You’ve already read the menu. I’ll just have what you’re having.”

Feyre ordered for both of them before looking the man over once more. “Why are you doing this?” She asks. Rhysand looks taken aback before regaining his posture.  
“I saw you sitting on your own when I walked towards the store next door, you’re still sitting here now. If I could I’d punch the guy. If only cheff didn’t restrain-” He stopped mid sentence when the waitress came back. He thanked her before looking down at his food. “Good choice,” he said.

“Do you need anything?” The waitress asked. Rhysand looked up for a second to witness the straining buttons on her blouse and the battering eyelashes than his gaze shifted to Feyre. 

“No, thank you. Would you like anything, darling?” She shook her head and watched as Rhysand waved a hand to send the waitress on her way.

“What is your job?” Feyre asked raising an eyebrow. She took a bite of her chicken but her eyes didn’t stray from the muscular man.

“I don’t know if you want to know.”

“If you had finished your sentence I wouldn’t have to ask.” Rhysand shrugged and took a swig of his wine. “Please, it’s important to me to know what you do.” It’s important to know if Tamlin would kill you for sitting at this table but since you seem to know him…

“You’re Tamlins girlfriend, right?” Rhysand asked. Feyre nodded. She should break up with him but she didn’t know what the consequences would be. If she would be killed for it or if he would let her go at all.

“Lets see for how long he still wants me,” she murmured. “If I could though.” 

Rhysand smiled and than frowned. “It would be dangerous to quit.”

“I know.” She looked him right in the eyes. “I’ve been through worse.”

“I know.” 

“But how do you know, Rhysand?” She sat straighter up. How does he know all of that? He doesn’t looks like a mob lord. He didn’t even seem dangerous. How does he know all that about her.

“I know that you’ve lost even more weight since I’ve last seen you. Don’t understand me wrong, you still look beautiful but you’re getting too thin.” Feyre shook her head. He wasn’t telling her. Why would she stay with him. She was going to raise her hand for the check when he spoke up again.

“I’m sorry for the other girls in that building but I’m glad that I at least got to save you. You deserve to live and you deserve better than that tool. You deserve all the riches he promised you but never gave.” She gulped and look down at the table cloth. Her blue eyes refused to meet his till he raised her head with a finger under her chin. He squeezed her fidgeting hands with one of his callused once. “You deserve this, Feyre and if you want to get out I’ll make sure you’re safe.” She pulled his finger away and looked at her food again, stoicly eating. 

“Thank you, Rhysand but I love him. I’m staying.” For her sisters and for herself. As long as she stayed with Tamlin they would be taken care off. Another deep breath and she saw Rhysand was also eating again. “You can be my company tonight, but tomorrow I’ll be his again.”

“You are nobody’s property, Feyre. You are your own person with your own choices.” She snickered.

“Do you have siblings. He doesn’t only takes care of me. He takes care of all of us. I’m grateful to Tamlin.”

“It sounds like your in debt.” She glared at him and dabbed at the corners of her mouth with her napkin.

“If you can only insult my lifes choices you can always leave.” Feyre ignored the fluttering in her heart. She ignored the blood rushing near her ears. She loved Tamlin but this was living. “Or you can stay and live the night with me, if that’s okay wiht you.”

“Do you ever feel alive, darling?” He took her casting her eyes down as a no. “I’ll make you feel alive. I’ll keep you safe tonight. I wouldn’t want anything to happen to you.” They smiled and the conversation shifted. To hobbies, none for Feyre since she was kidnapped and family, Rhysand had lost his whole family. They talked about everything that came tonight and not once did either Tamlin or Rhysand’s job come up again. At the end Feyre felt her heart beating faster in her chest and if she hadn’t loved Tamlin she was sure she’d kiss the violet eyes man. She wanted to see him again after that night. Needed to see him again.

After a small discussion Rhysand paid for their meals, helped her into her coat and led her outside, all the way to her apartment. 

He stood half a foot away. “Be sage, Feyre and if things with Tamlin go awry you can always come to me. I’ll help you.” Feyre smiled and looked into his violet eyes. His hair as dark as the night shining in the moonlight. 

“That would be great, Rhys. I’ll call you tomorrow.” She opened the door but stopped at the threshold. “Why did you say that you saved me, that night?” 

“I’m the cop that pulled you out of there. I held you in my arms till the ambulance came. I fought for you to live, don’t let that be in vain. Don’t let that tirant pull you down. Tamlin threatened to kill me if I ever touched you again. At least that was on the note attached to my coat. Let him try. As long as you’re safe.” Tears shone in light blue eyes as she stepped out of her home, placed a soft lingering kiss on his cheek and whispered in his ear,

“Thank you.” She stepped back into her home and repeated it. “Thank you, Rhys. I’ll call you tomorrow or you can come by at seven for dinner.”

“I’d love too.” He watched as she closed the door. “Sleep well,” he spoke softly. He sighed, smiled and walked to his own place. He would give her time to heal, time to make up her mind. Time to find out what Tamlin really was to her.


	2. What's in my glass?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rhysand stops by the next day but Tamlin has the same idea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!  
> Here's chapter two! I hope you'll enjoy it. I didn't have time for a master edit and I really wanted to update so here you go. Please comment if you see any big mistakes but don't be plain mean.

A small pounding in her head made Feyre reach for the glass of water and aspirins next to her bed. Instead she found a large golden, tanned skin. She looked up at the man next to her. Tamlin.

“Where,” she croaked. She took a sip of the water. “Where were you last night?”

“I couldn’t make it. I texted Lucien to take you home.” His hand tightened on Feyre’s. “He said you were busy with another man. A- A friend of mine.”

“It didn’t come off like you were friends.” She stroked the back of his hand where his skin was taut where it stretched on his knuckles. “He said he was the one that got me out.” She swallowed thickly. “Out of there.”

“He’s lying, Feyre. He’s trying to put you against me.” Tamlin hadn’t been so close to her in almost a week and Feyre didn’t know who she should believe. Rhysand was a cop and Tamlin was a trained liar. A trained liar that saved her from a life on the streets. She wouldn’t be sleeping in this apartment, in this bed if it wasn’t for him. She wouldn’t even be able to wear these clothes.

“Then who got me out. It was something you know right?” Feyre sat up and the headache became stronger, Tamlin handed her the glass and the aspirins.

“You don’t need to know. It’ll only remind you of that terrible time.” Or will it remind you? Why won’t he talk about it.

“I want to know, Tam. I want to know.” Tamlin shook his head and lowered it to place his lips on hers. Feyre sighed and kissed him back but too soon he pulled away.

Why was he being so secretive? He saved her from her own life and given her this amazing safety but in _there_ she had to save herself. Why couldn’t he accept that she had learned to take care of herself. She could walk across the street without having her hand held. She had grown. Without him. Now it was up to him to grow back because she couldn’t go back.

He didn’t answer, only looked away so when her head started to pound again she took the pills and the water and faded away. Those weren’t pain killers.

  * •



Knocks on the door. One, two, three. A long pause. One, two, three. A shorter pause. Yelling.

Feyre rubs her eyes. What’s going on? Tamlin and Lucien had keys. Everyone that came by could get in.

Bam, bam. More knocks. She rubbed her eyes again and shook the blanket off. Her head wasn’t pounding anymore but she had to squint against the bright light coming into her room. How had she slept through that? She normally woke up at the first signs of light.

“Feyre? Feyre!” She now heard coming from the other side of the door. Her open plan apartment didn’t have much noise cancelling. But Tamlin told her that she shouldn’t make too much noise for the neighbours unless he was there. He almost never was.

Yet he came yesterday. To scold her, yes, but he came. He held her and soothed her and they talked, she thinks. She’s always a bit weary when she talks to Tamlin and a couple of hours after. Did he leave as soon as she fell asleep? She would never know.

“Feyre! I’ll kick this door in if you’re not answering soon.” This started her memory again. It was Rhysand, the nice guy from the restaurant last night. She forgot he would come by, or would he call.

Quickly she made her way to the door. She swung it open and saw Rhysand. His hair was a mess from running his hand through it and his brows were furrowed, he was thumbing his phone. “Hi,” she said quietly. This was wrong. This was very wrong, and unfair towards Tamlin. He would be mad again. She took a deep breath. “Would you want a cup of coffee?” But who said she needed to tell him. Danger made things exciting but she didn’t quit know what was exciting anymore.

Tamlin had stolen that little joy.

No he hadn’t.

It was that house, that cellar, that cellar filled with other girls. The short spitfire and that beautiful blonde. Did they get out? Did they survive like she did. Did they live. Go out to dinner and see movies and go on dates. Were they forever scared to say no to a man. Scared to let them in let them touch her but let them do it anyway because she would get hurt otherwise.

That cellar... The top of the stairs were no good sign. The top of the stairs meant pain, and for some- For some it meant death.

Rysand how ever nice he was- He reminded her of that place. Of a third girl who never got back downstairs. Of hair dark as night and violet eyes shining like stars. Of danger. Of death. Gone. Her friend was gone.

Rhysand looked up at her through his long lashes. “I won’t hurt you, Feyre. If you want me to leave, I’ll go,” he said. She shook her head.

No because for every bad memory she had found a saviour in the small brave girl. So much younger than herself but the wisdom in her eyes. The dying stars every time she came back down.

Feyre wondered if there had once been stars in her eyes. If the dreams that flowed from her fingers onto paper in clouds of colored paint, had they died up there too? Had a part of her died when her heart stopped because her lungs couldn’t breath in the smoke any longer. When a stranger placed his lips on her and beat his hands on her chest. _“Don’t you dare die on me! Not now! Not ever!”_

She shivered. “Come in. The offer of coffee was serious.” She stepped to the side and let him in. Rhysand might be a safe place. Or he was another cellar. Another casket. Like those men. Like Tamlin. The appartment she stayed in. One deep breath, two deep breaths. Clench your fists and release them. She should’ve trained. Taken up boxing or some other fight sport.

He wouldn’t let her. Like property. She wasn’t property. Had never been property, except for those days.

Rhysand stood in the living room. Well room. He saw the unmade bed and for the first time realized that she was still in her pajamas. “Did I wake you?” She shrugged.

“You did but it was time to get up anyway.”

“I called you know. Before I threatened to knock your door down. I tried calling you a couple of times this morning to see if I could still come by. After two hours I wondered if you were still, you know, alive” He plucked a imaginary dust flake from his jacket at the same time that Feyre rubbed her arm.

“I’m a survivor, Rhysand. It’s what I do. So about that coffee.” Feyre turned her back to him. Why would he think she’d be dead. Did someone close to him die? And why would he care if she dies? He doesn’t even know her, he could go on with his life. Except he couldn’t. He may be a stranger but he had saved her life before. He had kept her alive. Would he regret it?

Please don’t regret it.

Feyre grabbed her favorite mugs out of the cupboard. Would he like milk or sugar in his coffee? Tamlin always drank a double espresso, black. She felt a presence behind her. “Do you have sugar?” Startled she turned and again jumped at how close he stood. When she breathed in their chests could touch. She choose to not breath for a second while she moved away.

Had he read her mind about the sugar? He still stood close. His violet eyes were simmering. With what? Feyre gulped and felt herself bump into the cupboards.

“Watch out, you’re going to knock the mugs off the counter.” His breath fanned her face as he reached behind her to grab the mugs off the counter. When he saw her wide eyes he took a step back. “Are you okay? Am I overstepping a boundary?”

She nodded. He was crossing all the lines she had set. Ever since _that_ place. No man closer than five feet. Besides Tamlin and maybe Lucien but Tamlin never let him get that close.

Rhysand was standing close and he kept close to her. Even if he saved her life, she didn’t know him. So close.

So close.

Feyre couldn’t breathe.

“Feyre-” he whispered. “Am I standing too close?” She nodded again. “With words, darling. I want to know what you’re thinking. I need to know what you don’t want me to do.” He took a step back anyway and finally she could breath in something that wasn’t so similar to the air at night. If stars had a scent it would be called Rhysand.

“I don’t like m- people getting so close to me. I like at least five feet distance. I don’t like people touching me. Or raising their voices.” She took a deep breath. She had never been able to tell anyone. She wasn’t close with her sisters even if Nesta had tried to find her. Rhysand was the first person to hear about this. “The place you got me from was bad. Very bad. I don’t find comfort in people. I like them to stay away.” Did she? Tamlin said it was better if she stayed at home for a while. He’d get the bad guys.

But Rhysand never touched her. Not really. He was close but he never touched her, always seemed composed and those used to be the most dangerous keepers.

“I don’t like people asking about my family,” he started. “I’m private and have a couple of close friends, some who were I the same,” he carefully thought of the right word, “facility as you were. I heard stories of what happened inside of that place. I lost things in that fire that I don’t care to share. Do know that if there is anything at all, you can come to me. You can always come to me.” Feyre nodded, took one of the mugs from his hands and wrapped her fingers around it. She blamed the tingling feeling to the heat.

She walked to the couch trying to ignore that he could see her messy bed from there. He did wake her from her sleep and she wore a hell of a lot less in there so the clothes didn’t bother her either.

She shivered, okay maybe she did want more clothes but only because it was cold. If she sipped now she would burn her tongue.

Exactly what Rhysand did a second later. He spit it back in his cup first. Then he held his mouth open and his tongue out blowing cold air over it.

Feyre laughed behind her hand. It was such a silly face. The kind a child would make. Oh well, he did burn his tongue. “Are you okay?”

Rhysand nodded. “Hot,” he said un blew some more air over his tongue. After a while he smiled. “I like your laugh.” He looked up through his lashes. “I didn’t think you could be prettier than you already were.” She looked down and watched the steam from her mug circle in the air. How long ago had she been called pretty? Had _he_ ever called her pretty. She didn’t remember getting lots of compliments. ‘Your hair looks clean.’ That doesn’t really qualify does it. It felt like a compliment at the time.

“I would say I liked your laugh too but it would just blow up your ego,” Feyre said. She blew on her tea, she didn’t drink coffee.

She looked into those shining violet eyes. All her favorite nights, every constellation, planet, and galaxy was bottled in those eyes. Eyes she could never dream to paint. Eyes like a liquid sky between the moment of night and dawn when the sky isn’t pink and isn’t blue when you only think that it’s beautiful and never even think of making a photo because it’s one of those moments that you want to live in. That you’ll remember anyway. Looking in to Rhysands eyes was like that for Feyre. A moment she’ll remember whatever happened. She wanted to keep staring at them.

The ding of her phone broke her out of her thought. She shook her head. How could she get lost in the eyes of another man. How could she sit on the couch – the couch that Tamlin had paid for – with another man. He would not like that. Did he like anything? Ever? Did he even like her?

The word love had been thrown around. She had believed it when she first said it. She believed him every time he spoke the words but now… The words were like an empty promise. The promise of a parent to a child that they would go to the playhall on the weekend but they never get there. They drive somewhere else. A grandma, a mall, the hairdresser, soccer practice. A promise was a lie. Empty like a newborn cloud. Fluffy and white and beautiful but the disappointment of empty, broken promises are like the rain that falls from it. It had been raining for quite some time.

She unlocked her phone, read the message and flew back to the couch. “You have to go!” she yelled as she pulled the mug out of his hands and poured the coffee down the drain. “Did you listen? You have to get out of this apartment building.” The dark haired man was sitting still on the couch his hands still halfway to his lips.

“Why the sudden change of mind?” Rhysand came a little closer but kept the five feet distance.

“You just have to go. I’ll send you a text tonight.” She grabbed his arm and pulled him to the door. She opened it and quickly wrapped him in her arms. “Get home safe but do not text me if you did or didn’t. I’ll text you tonight.” She pushed him and closed the door.

A couple of minutes she waited till the sound of footsteps started and faded. Another fifteen minutes later footsteps came back. She flew back to the couch and held a magazine that was thrown around. She had never liked reading those. A waste of money for her back in the days.

The key was twisted in the lock and the door opened. “Hello, Feyre. Had a good night’s rest?” Tamlin asked.

“Yes, I slept deep tonight, I even dreamt about you.” That you showed up next to my bed for instance. She would never tell him that. Never and neither would she tell him that Rhysand had sat where he did just minutes ago. Never. Even if she loved him, even if she didn’t, she would never tell him that.

She watched the text again and wished he had never come here that day.

**Tamlin: I will be at your place within fifteen minutes. See you soon.**


End file.
